


something in the wires made the lightbulbs break

by MrSpockify



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Gay Zuko (Avatar), Gen, Manipulation, Mind Control, Mindbending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrSpockify/pseuds/MrSpockify
Summary: “The brain functions with electrical impulses, millions of currents that tell the body what to do and what to say. It’s very delicate, but with enough practice the most skilled firebenders can hone in on those impulses,” he paused, and Zuko felt his hand twitch of its own accord, “and control them.”"It feels weird," Zuko said, noticing the strange numbness setting over the parts of his body that were moving without his permission."You will get used to it soon.”
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 92
Kudos: 191





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a tumblr post that I can't for the life of me find. Bloodbending, but make it scarier. 
> 
> (Title from Two by The Antlers)

Zuko did have to admit, it was nice to get away from the pressures of the Fire Nation, even if it was just for a short time. He had held the crown for just over a decade now and hadn’t once allowed himself the opportunity for a vacation. It didn’t feel fair, after the world spent so long under the rule of his family, to take time for something so frivolous for his own sake. But he had finally been convinced to take some time away at Ember Island after weeks of being worn down by his boyfriend.

_Boyfriend_. That still felt weird to him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t still blush a little every time he was reminded that he actually had a boyfriend. It made him feel impossibly young, something he hadn’t really felt since he took the throne. It was refreshing.

He and Naoki had only been together for a few months, and for the most part it was still private. He didn’t want to announce the relationship publicly, fearing pressure for an engagement, or even backlash. There were more than a few nobles who would still occasionally, in their own non-subtle ways, suggest the need for decedents to the throne and pass along names of various women as possible suitors. Zuko had more than enough to deal with as it was, and he didn’t think adding on drama would be helpful.

He had amended the ban on same-sex relationships long ago, one of his first declarations as Fire Lord. Times had definitely changed since then, and his additional law banning hate crimes against someone based on their sexuality also did wonders for cultivating a new environment. It was certainly much safer to be with someone of the same sex now, but Zuko was still self-conscious of his Nation viewing him differently. He didn’t want his declarations to seem like they were only in his own self-interest.

So Naoki was his own, personal secret. Well, his and a few dozen guards who were sworn to secrecy. He didn’t love having to keep this part of his life hidden, but at the same time it felt nice to have something private. He hadn’t even told Uncle. He meant to, one of these days, but for now it felt good to have one part of his life completely to himself.

Zuko felt arms wrap around him from behind as he stood staring out at the ocean from the balcony of his family’s beach house. A few years ago he may have jumped at the sudden touch, perhaps even fought back instinctually. But recently he had mellowed out, and he just leaned back into the embrace and sighed.

“You’ve been out here a while,” Naoki said, pressing a kiss onto the top of Zuko’s head. The man was much larger than Zuko, easily able to engulf him in a hug that felt more grounding than most meditation techniques he knew.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” Zuko muttered, turning around to embrace Naoki back. He craned his neck to look up at the man, earning a small kiss on the tip of his nose. He felt his ears heat just the slightest bit.

“Not work, I hope. You were supposed to leave that in Caldera,” Naoki scolded.

“For once, no,” Zuko assured, but he left it at that. He didn’t want to admit he was lost in thought about how strange it was to have an actual boyfriend. Naoki was quite a bit older than himself, and while he never said anything to point it out, Zuko didn’t want to hand him an opportunity to think he was so childish. Not that he would ever make Zuko feel bad, of course. In fact, Zuko didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who treated him as kindly as Naoki did.

From the very first time they met at a stuffy imperial party neither wanted to be at, Naoki made Zuko feel like the most important person in the world. Not in the way other nobles did when they kissed his ass or treated him like he had the power to smite whoever he wanted—though, considering his predecessor, Zuko understood why they thought of him that way.

Naoki made him feel important in a meaningful way. He looked at Zuko like he _mattered_. When Zuko spoke, Naoki listened as if every word that came from his mouth was poetry. When Naoki touched him, it was as if Zuko was made of something more beautiful that the most expensive piece of art in the palace.

So, yeah. Zuko was pretty much head over heels in love.

He let the older man pull him gently inside the home and into the master bedroom. They laid down on the mattress, facing each other, and stayed like that for what Zuko felt was a comfortable eternity, one that he never wanted to end. Naoki’s hand came up to brush against his cheek, finger grazing over the scar that marred half his face. Zuko grew up feeling like that part of him was something shameful and ugly, but the way Naoki looked at it, the way he touched it, made Zuko almost grateful he had it at all.

“Do you trust me?” Naoki asked suddenly.

“Of course.”

Naoki paused, brushed his thumb against Zuko’s bottom lip. Zuko felt like he might melt.

“Can I try something?” His voice was almost hesitant, but Zuko didn’t know why. He’d probably let Naoki do anything he wanted, especially here in this moment, where he felt like nothing else in the world mattered.

Zuko just nodded, a smile playing at his lips. Naoki stilled, one hand still resting on the side of Zuko’s face. His expression grew serious, as if he was concentrating very hard on something. He stayed like that for a few long moments, eventually closing his eyes.

Suddenly, Zuko felt something like an electric shock course through his entire body. Not painful, but certainly strange. It only lasted for a split second, and then a slight prickling sensation ran slowly down each of his limbs, leaving pins and needles in its wake. 

“What are you doing?” Zuko asked, smiling truly now. He breathed out a short laugh as the prickling went all the way down to his toes. His entire body felt like it was tingling.

Naoki smiled back and opened his eyes again.

“Have you ever heard of bloodbending?” Naoki asked.

“I _know_ you’re not a waterbender,” Zuko replied, chuckling. “But yes, I have.” He remembered that day with Katara, all those years ago, when he learned rather abruptly what bloodbending was. He remembered the fear on that man’s face as his limbs were contorted unnaturally. He remembered the intense concentration on Katara’s face, and the hatred in her eyes. He doesn’t think he’d ever be able to forget that.

“Well, there’s a somewhat similar thing in firebending. It’s an ancient practice related to bending lightning.” Naoki’s fingertips skimmed over the skin at Zuko’s temple, and he wasn’t sure if the shiver down his spine was from the touch or something else. “The brain functions with electrical impulses, millions of currents that tell the body what to do and what to say. It’s very delicate, but with enough practice the most skilled firebenders can hone in on those impulses,” he paused, and Zuko felt his hand twitch of its own accord, “and control them. I’ve trained for years under the best masters, but still,” another pause, and Zuko felt his whole arm move up and drape over Naoki’s side, “everyone’s brain is a little different. It can take time to get it just right.”

“It feels weird,” Zuko said, noticing the strange numbness setting over the parts of his body that were moving without his permission.

“You will get used to it soon.”

Zuko swallowed down a spike of fear. This was _Naoki_. He remembered back at the very start of their relationship when Zuko still startled at every touch, nearly cowering when his boyfriend would approach him from the left. Naoki had been so patient and kind, learning how to announce his presence so as not to frighten him, and learning to make his touch so gentle it wouldn’t even startle a foxmouse. Still, when it became too much, Zuko knew he could always ask for space and Naoki would give it in an instant.

He watched as his own hand hovered above the bed, fingers dancing independently, skimming lightly over the blankets. Out of curiosity, he tried to take back control of the limb, focusing all his energy on pulling his hand back to his own body. Instead, it continued to move on its own, reaching out to lay against the pillow.

“I don’t know if I like this,” Zuko whispered.

Naoki just hummed in response, as if he wasn’t really listening. Zuko felt his toes curl, even though he hadn’t intended them to do so.

“Please stop,” he begged, real fear starting to crawl under his skin and take root. “Please…”

“Shh,” Naoki hushed, and suddenly any more words Zuko wished to say died in his throat. His mouth refused to open again, and he could do nothing but lay there as his body continued to move under the control of someone else. “Just let me take it from here.”

And Zuko did, because he had no other choice.

* * *

After a week and a half of vacation, they returned to the Fire Nation so their leader could resume his duties. The time away had been miserable and exhausting, but Zuko had hoped that upon coming back to the palace, things would become better. They would be found out, and he could finally escape this self-contained prison he was trapped in.

Things did not become better, and Zuko was furious. He was filled with a sort of rage he hadn’t felt since he was much, much younger, and it burned so hot inside of him that he was sure he’d boil alive and no one would be the wiser. After all, he couldn’t call out for help.

Naoki had honed his skills during their time at Ember Island, spending every waking moment familiarizing himself with the inner workings of Zuko’s mind. First was the task of having the Fire Lord stand, then walk in a way that didn’t look too awkward. The process of learning to speak was difficult, but Naoki was determined, and Zuko was helpless to stop it. Each night, Naoki slept with an arm draped over Zuko’s body, ready to take back control should he try to escape.

But now, they were back in Caldera City, with hundreds of eyes to bear witness rather than a few guards who purposefully remained at a polite distance from the Fire Lord and his boyfriend while on their vacation.

Certainly, Zuko thought, this is where Naoki would be caught.

But as the two of them walked in unison down the expansive halls of the palace, Zuko felt his frustration grow. He wished he could yell out to everyone they passed, or at the very least give them a pleading look that could cue them into what was happening, but instead he simply nodded to anyone who looked his way. The palace staff smiled and greeted him with many _welcome backs_ , but not a single one seemed to catch on that something was amiss.

Zuko called for a meeting he did not want. He gathered his council and entered the room with Naoki at his side. They stood at the head of the table, and Zuko silently pleaded with every single one of them to use some semblance of thought to figure out that this was wrong.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Zuko said, willing his voice to say anything else. “As my most trusted associates, I wanted you all to be the first to hear the news of my engagement to the honorable Lord Naoki.” He gestured rather casually to the man beside him, but Zuko knew that, had he been in control of his own body, he would be throttling his neck instead.

Naoki had not proposed to him, and Zuko had most _certainly_ not proposed to Naoki.

A small part of Zuko wished that the nobles would argue, express disapproval for the choice in fiancé, _anything_ , but he had known when going into this relationship that Naoki was a palatable choice for a partner. He was nobility himself—a cousin to some powerful people—and an established diplomat as well. He was safe, which only made the relationship that much easier for him to fall into.

But he was still a _man_. Zuko glanced at a few of the older members of his council, waiting and hoping for them to speak up. This partnership, while a step forward, still would not produce an heir. There was enough reason to protest, they just needed to _do it_.

Someone near the end of the table, a General, stood, and Zuko felt his heart flutter with hope.

“Let me be the first to say,” he said, hands folded behind his back, “congratulations, My Lord.”

Several others murmured their agreement around the table, but Zuko had already mentally checked out of the conversation. Deep within himself, a scream bubbled and festered, pushing up and threatening to explode but failing to do absolutely anything despite the fire behind it. Naoki placed his hand on his shoulders as he thanked the council, and if he could have, Zuko would have bit the hand like he was a feral animal.

“Thank you, everyone,” Zuko said calmly. “I trust that we have your discretion as we work out a public announcement and ceremony.”

Discretion. Exactly what Zuko didn’t need at the moment.

The meeting was dismissed, and as they walked the halls, Naoki asked quietly, “That went rather well, don’t you think?” He chuckled to himself. 

Zuko did not reply. _Could_ not reply. He wished he could, though. He would have screamed until his throat was raw. He would have summoned a fire so hot it melted the paint off the walls. He would have killed Naoki, and he probably wouldn’t even feel bad about it.

But he did none of that. Zuko remained silent at Naoki’s side as they made their way back to their quarters, certain that the rage inside of him would literally tear him apart from the inside out in a bloody and violent mess.

At the moment, he thought he might prefer that to the silence.

* * *

Iroh considered himself a patient man. He had waited his entire life for a crown that was never bestowed upon him, thanks to his brother’s efforts. In his darker days he spent 600 days laying siege to Ba Sing Se despite the slow and often stunted progress it showed. He even spent a long three years watching and waiting for his nephew to come to his senses and start healing from the trauma his father inflicted. When it came to Zuko, Iroh knew that patience was a virtue.

It was, however, becoming very difficult to continue waiting for a reply letter from his nephew.

Zuko was usually quite good about churning out thoughtful letters in response to Iroh’s own, at least on a bi-monthly basis. He had only been late in sending them out twice, and both times had been followed by an extra long and apologetic letter from Zuko. Of course, Iroh was never upset. He understood that being the Fire Lord came with a host of responsibilities that left little time for much else. He appreciated any letter from his nephew, however brief and however late.

Still, the way things had been going recently had left Iroh a little perplexed. The past three letters from his nephew were short and to the point, answering any questions Iroh had posed and not offering much else in terms of content. They were vague and impersonal, very unlike any of his previous letters throughout the years. Worried about his nephew, Iroh had sent him a letter much like his normal ones—describing the goings on of his teashop, with tales of anyone new and interesting he had the pleasure of meeting.

But in this letter, at the very end, he expressed his worry, pointing out the oddities of the past few correspondences. He assured his nephew there was no need to bulk up his letters, and that he could continue to write short responses if that’s what he had the time for, but he truly wanted to know if Zuko was holding up alright. He even asked if he would appreciate a visit from his old Uncle, insisting that the teashop would be alright if he took a couple weeks off.

After two weeks, he hadn’t received a reply. He gave it another two weeks before sending a follow-up letter, thinking perhaps the first hadn’t arrived. It wasn’t unheard of for a messenger hawk to get confused during delivery.

Another month, and still nothing. Thinking he may have pushed his nephew too hard to share his feelings, he sent a third letter, with flowery language and funny stories and no mention of Zuko’s emotional state.

This time, it took only two more weeks to figure out he wasn’t getting a reply.

Fed up with waiting and starting to seriously worry about his nephew, Iroh sat down one night after a long day at the Jasmine Dragon and took out a piece of parchment. He dipped his pen in ink and started writing.

_Dear Ambassador Sokka…_


	2. Chapter 2

The Fire Nation palace was drearier than Sokka remembered it being. It had been a while since he had been there, probably at least a year. He’d had less free time to visit his friend ever since he started focusing his diplomatic efforts more on the Northern Water Tribe since relations with the Fire Nation were looking up.

Before that, he had a habit of stopping by Caldera City pretty often, just to say hello to his buddy. You know, the _Fire Lord._ Life was weird.

But it had felt different back then. The hallways were usually bustling with a couple dozen nobles and diplomats at any given time, friendly chatter filling the air until the sun fell low enough to send long shadows through the palace windows. Even the staff always looked happy to be there.

Sokka knew it had taken years for Zuko to cultivate a work atmosphere that didn’t make his employees feel that they would be fired or attacked at any wrong move. Ozai had certainly left his mark on everyone at the palace, but Zuko had worked hard to create something new and more comfortable for everyone. Sokka could remember those first few months of Zuko’s reign when the young Fire Lord continuously assured his staff they didn’t have to bow whenever he entered the room, or that taking a break—which they were now legally owed—would not result in losing their position. It took a while, but they got there.

Sokka felt like he had been thrown back in time, somehow. Despite the sweat dripping down the back of his neck from the hot weather, the inside of the palace felt cold. He trailed behind the guard who had met him at the entrance, passing guard after guard at various doors, each of them standing attentively and staring ahead. No one paid him any attention. The air was eerily silent.

“Did someone die?” Sokka asked, only half joking. The guard ahead of him glanced back with a raised eyebrow.

“Ambassador?”

“It’s just _really_ quiet,” he explained. “I feel like I walked into a wake.”

“Oh,” the guard said, turning his gaze back to the front. “No, sir.”

When it was clear the guard wasn’t going to explain further, Sokka sighed and resolved to follow in silence. They walked down endless corridors with impossibly high ceilings, footsteps echoing around them the only sound. Sokka occupied himself with the architecture, so engrossed in the tall arches that he didn’t realize where he was being taken until they arrived.

“Your quarters, sir,” the guard announced, gesturing to a door identical to the few other doors in the corridor. It was the guestroom hallway, far away from the royal suites on the other side of the palace. Sokka hadn’t slept in these since the first time he stayed here. Zuko had quickly realized he preferred to have his friends in the nicer rooms—that those also happened to be just a few doors down from his own was just a coincidence, he assured.

Sokka almost laughed. “You must be new here,” he said, placing a hand on the guard’s shoulder who, in turn, flinched just a little. “I’m close friends with the Fire Lord. We saved the world together, defeated his horrible dad, you know the story.” Sokka took his hand from the shoulder, trying to ignore the way the guard relaxed instantly. “Anyway, I normally stay in one of the royal suites. There was this room with a nice view of the gardens, and that’s where I usually settle down.”

“Oh, well…” The guard looked uncomfortable again.

“I don’t blame you for not knowing, don’t worry,” Sokka assured, holding up his hands. It really had been a while since he’d visited, so he didn’t want this guy to think he was just being rude.

“I’m sorry, Ambassador, but we’re under strict orders to have guests stay here. Only the Fire Lord and his fiancé stay in that section of the palace.”

“No, yeah, that’s fine. That makes sense, it’s o—”

Sokka felt himself short-circuit.

“I’m sorry, did you just say…” He opened and closed his mouth like an idiotic fish, replaying the moment in his mind to make sure he had heard correctly. “ _Fiancé_?”

“Yes. Lord Naoki,” the guard said simply, as if it wasn’t the biggest piece of news Sokka had received in years. Mind reeling, Sokka just nodded, releasing a moderately embarrassing noise from the back of his throat. 

Iroh had _not_ mentioned a fiancé in his letter to Sokka. He asked if Sokka had heard from his nephew, if he knew of anything that might be bothering him or hindering him from answering any letters, and if he thought it might be a good idea for everyone to meet up and visit the Fire Nation Capital.

There was most definitely no mention of a fiancé. He would have remembered that.

Worse than that, though, was that _Zuko_ hadn’t mentioned it to him. Not that they had really been corresponding much, lately—Iroh hadn’t been the only one not to hear from the Fire Lord as of late—but still, that really seemed to Sokka like something worth sharing. If _he_ got engaged, he would have told _everyone_. Zuko wasn’t Sokka, though, he supposed.

Still. Pretty weird.

“Are you alright, Ambassador?” Sokka cleared his throat and pulled himself back to the present. He could stroke his wounded ego later.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’d like to see the Fire Lord as soon as possible. Is he free before dinner?” He knew Zuko usually had a full schedule of meetings all day every day, but was hoping he could squeeze in time for an old friend. Even just a few minutes so Sokka could chew him out for not telling him about something as big as an engagement.

“Again, apologies,” the guard said, looking incredibly awkward, “but the Fire Lord has requested not to be disturbed until tomorrow night, when the rest of your party arrives.” Aang was coming the next day with Katara. Sokka had written to Zuko—not that he had expected a reply—letting him know the three were going to arrive for a visit. He left out that Toph and Iroh were coming, too, just a couple days later from the Earth Kingdom. They all thought it might be a nice surprise, perhaps enough to get Zuko to open up about whatever was going on. Iroh always cheered him up.

“That’s… that’s fine, thank you,” Sokka said, heading into his room. He had hoped to get some one-on-one time with Zuko before the others, a chance to coax the issue out of his friend before anyone else could even try, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. Sokka tried to convince himself that it was just because Zuko was incredibly busy and could only find any time in his schedule for a visit tomorrow, and that it had nothing to do with the fact that he didn’t want to see Sokka when it was _just_ Sokka.

It wasn’t really working, but apparently he had all night to keep convincing himself.

Later in the evening, after Sokka had settled in, he wandered around the palace. He had initially believed he would be spending all night with his friend, catching up and figuring things out, but that apparently wasn’t going to be the case. So he was left to himself, roaming around empty hallways that were so recognizable aside from the ghostly silence.

Eventually, he found his way out to the gardens where he knew Zuko’s little turtleduck pond was. As he rounded the corner, he half expected to see a familiar figure crouched beside the water. He found none.

Instead, Sokka sat down by the pond by himself, dipping his fingers into the cool water that was still just slightly too warm for his taste. It was late enough in the evening that even the turtleducks weren’t around, so he was truly alone, with nothing but the soft chirping of cricketflies to keep him company.

Above him, the moon cast blue light onto the grass and trees. Sokka looked at its reflection in the pond and sighed.

“What’s going on, Yue?” he asked, not expecting any reply. Though it was frustrating, he supposed he’d just need to wait for Aang and Katara to get there the next day. Maybe they could figure it out together.

Until then, Sokka thought he should probably get some rest.

* * *

Zuko didn’t really feel anything upon seeing his old friends, if he was being honest with himself. Then again, he hadn’t felt much of anything for a very long time.

He walked along the corridor, Naoki by his side, as he always was. Coming from the other end of the hallway were three familiar faces. He knew he should be excited; it had been too long since he’d seen any of them. But just because he _should_ be feeling something didn’t make it true.

Aang had seemed to grow even taller than the last time he was here, though that might’ve just been Zuko perpetually seeing the man as the twelve year-old he used to be. The airbender launched himself into Zuko’s arms, yelling something about _Sifu Hotman_ , and squeezed him tightly. Zuko’s arms reached around and hugged him back.

Katara was next, and she was much gentler. She hugged him, patting his back softly, and told him it was good to see him. Zuko’s head nodded in greeting.

Sokka was last, and he looked a little bit miffed. The man held out a hand, an oddly formal greeting considering the others. Zuko’s hand reached out to meet it, but upon contact Zuko was pulled suddenly into a big hug, his face pressed firmly into Sokka’s shoulder. He was let go before his arms could return the hug.

“It’s good to see you,” Zuko greeted them all, his voice sounding flat to even himself. A smile played at the edges of his lips, not quite making an appearance.

“Are you going to introduce us?” Sokka asked, gesturing to Naoki.

“Of course,” he continued. “This is Lord Naoki, my fiancé.” Aang and Katara looked comically shocked, and Sokka was looking at them smugly.

“Wow! That’s…” Aang trailed off, jaw basically unhinged.

“That’s wonderful,” Katara saved, looking at Zuko fondly. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Zuko said. He opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by Aang taking a step towards Naoki.

“We didn’t even know Zuko was dating anyone! It’s great to meet you,” Aang said with utmost sincerity. Naoki smiled back with just as much earnestness.

“The engagement was just announced privately a few months ago,” Naoki said. “We haven’t released the information to the public just yet.”

“How long have you two been together? How did you meet? What…” Aang’s voice, along with Naoki’s polite replies, drowned into the background, and Zuko could feel himself slipping away from the present situation. He was exhausted, and really just wanted to crawl into his bed and sleep for a good ten hours. Or years.

“There’s really no stopping him once he gets started,” Katara muttered apologetically, glancing over at her own partner basically accosting the newcomer.

“Nothing’s changed, huh?” Sokka asked, chuckling.

He and Katara looked at Zuko expectantly. Zuko, in turn, did nothing. He didn’t smile, or laugh, or even do anything to acknowledge them aside from staring at them blankly. With Naoki distracted, he was stuck. The siblings were looking at him with confusion, glancing at each other as if sharing some unspoken thing.

“Are you okay, buddy?” Sokka asked, and Zuko wished he could scream.

No one _ever_ noticed. After he and Naoki had returned from their vacation all those months ago, he had expected everyone to catch on immediately, for Naoki to be caught right away. But no one had even given him a second glance. No one cared enough to realize Zuko was acting off.

But Naoki had made a mistake. Of course _his friends_ would notice. They’d been to the end of the world and back together.

Zuko just stared at them in complete silence, sure he looked more like a statue than an actual person. He willed them to understand, wishing his eyes would speak enough for him. _Help me_ , he thought, wondering if maybe they could read his mind if he just tried hard enough.

_Help me, help me, help me_ —

“My Lord,” Naoki said, interrupting whatever story Aang had been droning on about. “Our meeting.”

Zuko felt his head turn away from the Water Tribe siblings until they were out of sight and all he could see was his fiancé. His eyes looked warm and inviting, but he knew what was behind them.

“Yes, of course,” Zuko’s voice announced calmly. He turned back to the visitors, and the hint of a smile pulled at his mouth once again. “I am sorry, but I’m afraid we can’t join you tonight for dinner.” His voice didn’t sound very apologetic. “Something came up, unfortunately. Please enjoy in our absence, though.”

“It was very nice to meet you all,” Naoki added, even reaching out to shake Aang’s hand for good measure. “I hope we have another chance to talk before you have to go.”

“Good evening,” Zuko said with finality, and the two of them turned around to walk away. He thought he might’ve heard one of his friends mutter something, but Naoki placed his hand on his lower back as if to guide him along and Zuko felt like he was shriveling up.

When they got back to their room, Zuko could tell Naoki was furious. He started pacing the room, leaving Zuko to stand by the door and just watch.

“They could tell something was wrong, couldn’t they? They seemed suspicious,” Naoki rambled, pulling at the edges of his sleeves. “I knew we should have written back telling them not to come.” He huffed and stopped pacing, turning to stare at Zuko. “You’re too stiff.”

Zuko would’ve laughed if he had been able to. _And whose fault is that?_ he wanted to ask.

“Come here,” Naoki ordered, as if Zuko even had the option to refuse. He felt his legs take him over to a vanity in the corner of the room. He sat in the chair, staring at himself in the mirror with Naoki looming over his shoulder.

He looked as tired as he felt, with hollow eyes and sunken cheeks. He really looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in weeks. If Zuko didn’t know any better he’d think he was looking at a corpse.

“We need to practice your smile,” Naoki mused, leaning down so his face was beside Zuko’s in the mirror. Zuko’s reflection started contorting at the mouth, running through different options for smiles. None looked natural. Naoki grunted in frustration.

Suddenly, Zuko was released. He slumped forward onto the vanity, unprepared for the sudden return to his body. He breathed heavily, the bone-deep exhaustion making itself known. Naoki had been right during that first night they did this. Zuko _had_ gotten used to the feeling of being controlled, of being completely numb. It just made coming back like this feel awful.

“Smile,” Naoki ordered. Zuko glanced at him through the curtain of his hair, still trying to catch his breath. “I need something to go off of,” Naoki explained, gesturing to the mirror.

Even if he had the energy to do it, Zuko wasn’t sure he would. At the moment, he wanted to do anything _but_ smile.

“I’m tired,” Zuko mumbled, resting his head on the vanity.

“I don’t care,” Naoki spat. He grabbed a handful of Zuko’s hair and yanked, forcing Zuko to look at his own reflection. He hated what he saw.

“Please, Naoki…” he tried, reaching up to place a hand gently over his fiancé’s.

A sudden jolt shot through his limbs, pulling a surprised yelp from Zuko’s throat. He clamped his mouth shut and breathed through the pain.

“That was a warning,” Naoki said, voice firm. “ _Smile_.”

Zuko almost wanted to argue, or continue to refuse. He nearly spat out _Why don’t you remember what my smile looks like? Isn’t that something a fiancé should know?_

Something about having his friends here, even if they were on the other side of the palace, made him feel an inkling of hope, something he hadn’t thought he was even capable of feeling anymore. Maybe if Naoki couldn’t master his smile, his friends would push harder. Maybe they would figure it all out.

But Zuko was also tired. Every muscle in his body ached, and he knew that arguing or refusing was futile. Naoki could do so much worse to him. He had certainly done worse, at the beginning, back when Zuko still thought he could fight back.

He had learned, rather quickly, that fighting back didn’t do anything but cause him more pain. He didn’t have the energy for that. Right now, he just wanted to get this over with.

So Zuko looked at himself in the mirror. It took a few different tries, but eventually he found his old customer service smile he used at the Jasmine Dragon so long ago. It wasn’t his natural smile, but it looked genuine enough, and it seemed to please Naoki.

Numbness spread over his body again, and Zuko was almost grateful as he was able to forget the exhaustion plaguing his muscles and just let Naoki do all the work. They were there for at least a half hour perfecting the fake smile in the mirror, watching as it slowly become more and more natural on Zuko’s features, as Naoki memorized the pathways in Zuko’s brain that lead to it.

When Naoki was finally satisfied, he directed Zuko to the bed and allowed him to collapse under the covers. Zuko stayed awake all the way until Naoki himself crawled into bed and fell asleep beside him.

He was keenly aware of the fact that he was unrestricted so long as Naoki was asleep. Right now, if he wanted to, he could sneak out of bed, out of the room, and make his way to his friends’ rooms. He could explain everything to them, ask them to help. He felt so close to freedom, but still so far away. He was so fatigued he wasn’t even sure he could stand up, let alone make it all the way across the palace.

Zuko gripped the covers tightly around himself, trying to ignore the knot forming in his throat and the tears threatening to fall at the corner of his eyes. It was so much easier when he didn’t feel hope.

With a final sigh, Zuko closed his eyes and let his body succumb to its exhaustion.

* * *

Dinner had been quiet but charged. Sokka thought it was strange and almost comical, the three of them sitting at a too-large table by themselves being served a fancy meal fit for a king. It felt wrong, and he couldn’t help but keep glancing at the empty chair that should’ve sat the Fire Lord. Even the servants were quiet when they brought out each dish, serving the food and bowing before hustling out of the room, as if even they didn’t want to stay too long in the unusual space.

“I can’t believe Zuko’s getting _married_ ,” Aang said, breaking the silence. He poked at a bowl of rice and rested a cheek in his palm.

“Yeah, that was… unexpected,” Katara added. She looked at her brother pointedly. “You didn’t seem too surprised, though. A little head’s up would have been nice.”

“Hey, I just found out yesterday. It only seemed fair to make you go through what I went through,” Sokka said. He stuffed his face with the food, though if he was being honest, he wasn’t really tasting any of it. His mind was elsewhere.

“Naoki seemed nice,” Aang continued lightly.

“Just because you were the only one who could get in a word with him,” Sokka teased, and the airbender shrugged in reply.

“He’s kind of old, though.”

“ _Aang_ ,” Katara admonished. “He wasn’t that old.”

It grew quiet again, and Sokka wondered who would be the first to say what was on all their minds. The engagement was a surprise, and Naoki seemed nice enough, sure. But Zuko… Zuko had looked horrible. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his friend look that bad before. He looked more like a skeleton than an actual person, and the vacant look in his eyes when Sokka had asked if he was okay sent a shiver down his spine.

“I think it’s a good thing we’re here,” Katara finally said, and somehow that summed up everything that Sokka was feeling.

“Maybe we can see him later tonight,” Aang offered. A young girl came in then to collect empty bowls and plates, her gaze trained to the floor. “Excuse me,” Aang said to her, holding out a hand. The girl froze. “Do you happen to know the Fire Lord’s schedule for tonight? I think he has a meeting, but I was wondering if there was anything… after that…” He trailed off. “Are you alright?” The girl looked terrified, glancing over her shoulder like she was waiting for something to suddenly appear. She still hadn’t looked at Aang.

“I, um…” Her voice was faint, and Sokka had to lean in to hear her. The dishes clinking softly in her trembling hands nearly drowned her out. “Sorry, we’re not,” she sighed, glancing over her shoulder once more. “The servants aren’t to speak with anyone.”

“ _What_?” Aang nearly shouted, scaring the poor girl.

“Since when is that a rule?” Sokka asked, remembering all the times he’d stayed at the palace previously. All of the staff were incredibly kind and funny, and he had definitely spoken to most of them at least once.

“Who ordered that?” Aang asked, softening his voice again. He looked like he wanted to cry.

“The Fire Lord, sir,” she replied. “I’m sorry, I can’t… Please don’t tell anyone I said anything,” she begged, starting to back away from the table.

“Of course,” Katara assured her. She nodded politely as a dismissal, and the girl seemed grateful, leaving as quickly as her feet could take her. “That doesn’t sound like Zuko,” Katara muttered once the girl was gone.

“No,” Sokka agreed, “it doesn’t.” Sokka knew for a fact that Zuko had spent years making sure the workers in the palace felt comfortable enough to speak freely. To take that away from them was completely contradictory.

“What’s going on with him?” Aang asked to no one in particular. Not like any of them had an answer, anyway.

Sokka drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, the gears in his head turning. He squinted, leaning forward on the table and gesturing for the other two to lean in with him. “We’re going to find out,” he said quietly. “I have a plan.”


	3. Chapter 3

Sokka’s plan wasn’t working.

It had nothing to do with the plan itself, because the plan was absolutely brilliant. He continued to remind himself of that as it fell apart around them in a heap of flaming garbage.

Each of them had a job, carefully designed so that they could finally get to the bottom of things. Aang was the first step. His job was to take over the Fire Lord’s duties for the day—meetings, speeches, royal chores, whatever. The Avatar, their carefully crafted explanation explained, wanted to get a hands-on look at how the Fire Nation was conducting itself during this peaceful time. And anyway, he was the _Avatar_ , so they doubted anyone would have the gall to tell Aang he wasn’t allowed to do something.

Next up was Katara, who needed to interfere and take Naoki away and keep him distracted. While she was at it, she would try to guide the conversation to Zuko and see what his fiancé had to say about what was happening. Maybe he would be inclined to share something when Katara expressed concern. He had been around the Fire Lord the most, lately, so hopefully he could give them something useful. And anyway, she really just needed to keep him away from Zuko. Worst case scenario, Katara had assured, she could just keep him in a frozen block of ice until the plan was finished.

“I’m kidding, obviously,” she had insisted. Aang didn’t look convinced.

Finally, it was Sokka’s turn. He had the most important job, if he did say so himself. He needed to get Zuko alone so he could figure out what was wrong and why he looked two seconds away from keeling over. Sokka was hoping the Fire Lord would actually want to be alone with his old friend and go with him willingly, but just in case, the ambassador had a host of fake Southern Water Tribe emergencies that needed Zuko’s personal attention _immediately_.

Sokka had created a schedule for each of them with precise instructions and times, including a number of non-verbal cues for each other to practice and learn so they could communicate without drawing attention. He even drew maps of the palace with directions from memory, in case anyone got lost.

Admittedly, he had not had any time to sleep that night. But the point was that the plan was thorough. It was foolproof.

That is, until Aang arrived in the morning to take over the Fire Lord’s duties only to find that the entire day’s schedule had already been cleared.

Sokka, in all of his sleep deprived glory, did not take that news very well. When Aang returned to their room to sheepishly explain that he had failed his one and only job, Sokka stood and ripped his own schedule in half, eye twitching just slightly. He ranted— _elegantly spoke_ —about how nothing was going his way for a solid five minutes, pacing around the room and seething.

Before Sokka could hastily string together a brand new, even better plan—and he maintained that he _could_ do that, if need be—a knock at the door caught their attention. An attendant informed them that the Fire Lord had requested their presence as soon as possible.

As they left the room, Katara patted Sokka on the shoulder and shot him a sympathetic look. It didn’t help.

Sokka, Katara, and Aang arrived outside a conference room just in time to see a few Fire Sages exit, expressions ranging from mildly irritated to downright offended. They nodded tightly to the trio before heading off in a hurry, and Sokka shared a curious look with his sister and friend.

“What’s their deal?” Sokka muttered as they ducked past the curtains and into the room. It was wide and empty, apart from Zuko and Naoki sitting beside one another at a table. They were hunched over a scroll, and it was Naoki that finally glanced up and noticed the newcomers.

“It’s good to see you three again,” Naoki greeted, gesturing for them to join the couple at the table.

“We have some news,” Zuko added once everyone was seated. He was smiling, which made Sokka’s shoulders relax a little. The Fire Lord had seemed so weird yesterday, so it was good to see him happy again. Naoki placed a hand over Zuko’s on the table, and the couple shared a gentle look with each other.

“We’ve moved the date up for our wedding,” Naoki said, smiling proudly. “We figured since you’re already here, this is the perfect time to have a smaller, more intimate ceremony than the one we were planning for in a few months.”

“Was that what the Fire Sages were here for?” Aang asked.

“Yes, they need to perform the blessing for us,” Naoki said.

“They didn’t look too happy earlier,” Sokka mused. Naoki’s expression sobered, and after a few moments Zuko followed suit.

“They aren’t happy that the Fire Lord is breaking tradition as it is,” he said, looking at Zuko sadly. “And now it’s just happening sooner than expected.”

“Breaking tradition…?” Aang asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Marrying a man,” Zuko explained.

“ _That’s_ the problem?” Katara exclaimed, and Sokka couldn’t help but snicker. His sister had certainly given dozens back home a piece of her mind when they had anything less than nice to say about Sokka liking men as well as women, and he had no doubt she would dig into the Fire Sages if given the chance—sacred position be damned.

“It’s alright,” Naoki assured. He placed a hand on his fiancé’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ve come to terms with it, and this will be a step in the right direction for the Fire Nation.”

Zuko nodded, patting the hand on his shoulder. He turned his attention back to the guests and smiled again. “We still have a lot of planning to do, but we wanted to let you know the good news first. We’re holding the ceremony in just a few days here in the palace. I hope you’ll attend.”

“If there’s a buffet,” Sokka said seriously, “then I’ll be there.” Katara whacked him on the back of the head.

“Of course we’ll be there, Zuko,” Katara said.

“That’s good to hear,” Naoki said. The two stood suddenly, completely in sync. “If you’ll excuse us, there are a lot of things we need to get in order between now and then.”

“Let us help you,” Sokka offered. “I’ve always wanted to plan a wedding!” Maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but his plan from last night had gone wrong and he felt like he needed to redeem himself a little bit. A wedding couldn’t be that hard to plan, right?

“Thank you,” Naoki said, “but I think we can handle it between the two of us.”

“Nonsense,” Katara added playfully. “We’d love to help however we can.”

“No,” Naoki said, voice just a bit too stern. He smiled again, but it was strained. “Really, thank you, but we’d like to handle everything ourselves.” Zuko nodded beside him, giving the same smile he had throughout the meeting. He didn’t look bothered by his fiancé’s change in tone, so Sokka tried to shrug it off, too.

“Excuse us,” Zuko said, and they turned and started walking away.

“Zuko, wait!” Aang said suddenly, standing from his seat. Even from behind, Sokka could see Naoki tense up. Still, they both turned back around to give the Avatar their full attention. Aang looked thoughtful, his brow furrowed and lips pinched tightly. “Can we speak with you?” He paused, glancing at Naoki for only a split second. “Alone?”

Sokka watched the stranger’s expression for any sign of… well, anything. But Naoki remained calm and simply turned to look at his fiancé. Zuko smiled at Aang and tilted his head slightly. Sokka thought it looked creepy, almost threatening. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Zuko do that.

“Anything you have to say, you can say it in front of us both,” he suggested politely.

Aang was quiet, staring at the couple and mulling something over in his mind. After a moment, he smiled and shook his head. “No, that’s okay,” he said amicably. “It can probably wait, anyway. You have a wedding to plan.”

The three watched silently as Zuko and Naoki nodded and walked away. The second the curtains closed behind them, Sokka, Katara, and Aang tensed and stewed in silence.

“Didn’t realize we’d be attending a wedding this week,” Sokka finally broke through the quiet atmosphere. “I would’ve packed nicer clothes.”

“I’m surprised Zuko wouldn’t want his Uncle here,” Katara said quietly, and both Sokka and Aang frowned in realization. Zuko had no idea he was getting two more visitors soon. Since when would he be alright with his Uncle missing something so huge? And Zuko had to know that if he didn’t invite Toph to his wedding he would _never_ hear the end of it. Something was definitely up.

Aang sighed and shook his head. “I’m going to see if I can catch up with the Fire Sages,” he explained. He left, and the room fell into an unnatural silence with just the two siblings.

Sokka slumped in his chair, rubbing his chest which had started to hurt. He felt tired.

“What’s wrong?” Katara asked.

“Nothing,” Sokka replied automatically. It slipped out before he could even think about it. Before he could remember that this was his sister, and she could probably tell he was lying better than anyone else in the world. She scooted her chair closer and placed a hand on his knee.

“Sokka,” she tried again. “What’s wrong?”

But Sokka didn’t know how to answer that. Nothing had been going right the entire time he was here, and he knew that none of it was necessarily his fault, but that didn’t stop the guilt from eating him away from the inside out. That didn’t stop him from wishing he could just snap his fingers and magically make everything better.

“I feel like a failure,” he settled on saying. He gave a small shrug, as if what he felt was no big deal. Maybe if he just shrugged it off the sensation of the entire world resting on his shoulders might just disappear. It hadn’t thus far in his life, but he was persistent.

“Why do you think that?” Katara asked, brow pinched with worry. Sokka wished he could just reach over and wipe it away. He didn’t like making others upset. “Is this because your plan didn’t work out today?”

He shrugged again. “My plan for today, my plan when I got here yesterday, whatever plan I try to come up with next. It never works out.” He crossed his arms and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “Something’s wrong with Zuko. Iroh wrote to me because he _trusted_ me, Katara. He trusted me to figure it out and fix it, and I haven’t done either.” _I failed_.

“Sokka…” Katara sighed. “I don’t think this is what any of us expected to find when we came here. And whatever’s going on with Zuko doesn’t seem like something you can just _fix_ , especially not by yourself.”

Katara was right; Sokka knew that, at least logically. But there was another part of him that refused to believe that. He’d spent his whole life taking care of the people around him, watching out for them and using any means necessary to make sure no one got hurt. When someone needed him, he was there to throw himself in the line of fire, to charge in head first regardless of the consequences. He felt ready to do that at all times—to sacrifice himself for the ones he loved.

But right now, his friend was in a kind of trouble Sokka didn’t know how to deal with. Zuko was wasting away, by the looks of it, and being secretive in a way he wasn’t used to. There didn’t seem to be any way for Sokka to help, and that killed him inside.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Katara added. Sokka forced himself to nod, but Katara poked him in the arm and he looked over at her. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it’s not your fault.”

“Okay,” he said. “It’s not your fault.”

“Sokka…” He was trying to lighten the mood, and he could tell Katara wasn’t about to let him get away with it. She looked sad, almost guilty, and he wondered briefly if she ever felt the way he did. If she ever felt like everything hinged on her every move.

He figured she had a pretty good idea.

He sighed. “It’s not my fault.” It was harder to say than he expected, and his voice caught in his throat on the last word. He looked away while he blinked away tears that had suddenly formed. Katara’s hand on his shoulder didn’t help matters, but he rested his own hand over it anyway.

“Let’s go find Aang,” she suggested. Thankful for the distraction, Sokka nodded and stood. He sniffed, doing his best to wipe his eyes subtly, and they headed out.

They found Aang down the end of a long hallway looking apprehensive.

“Did you find the Fire Sages?” Sokka asked. Aang nodded, but the way his eyebrows were pinched together made Sokka assume the meeting hadn’t gone very well.

“They’re not upset that Zuko’s marrying a man,” he explained. “Well, they’re not _happy_ about it,” he amended, rolling his eyes, “but that’s not what they really have a problem with.”

“That’s… good, I guess,” Katara offered, shrugging.

“The problem is that he won’t produce an heir,” Aang continued. “They tried to compromise, but Zuko won’t take a concubine or accept a surrogate.” Katara grimaced at the idea, seeming to agree with Zuko on that.

“Can’t they adopt?” Sokka asked. “What’s the big deal?”

“The Fire Nation has an unbroken royal bloodline, blessed by Agni,” Aang replied. “Traditionally, it has to be a blood heir that takes the throne. It’s always been that way.”

“There must be a distant cousin or _something_ if they’re that picky about it,” Sokka grumbled. He was inclined to hope they would pick a distant cousin, rather than a more immediate relative. Namely, the closest options, one of which was in prison, one of which was receiving psychiatric healthcare, and the other of which would probably croak before Zuko ever did.

“That’s what I said,” Aang muttered. His expression was pinched again. “But apparently Zuko signed a new clause recently that amended the marriage laws. Something about the succession of the throne where, if there’s no heir by birthright, the partner by marriage becomes heir apparent. So once they’re married, Naoki becomes Prince Consort—”

“And next in line for the throne,” Katara finished, expression grim.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal originally,” Aang said. “Apparently Zuko put it in place to make sure Ozai wouldn’t be able to be crowned again if something happened to him. But because Zuko and Naoki are refusing to make plans to produce an heir, it’s just a matter of time before the royal bloodline is broken.”

Something didn’t sit right with that, Sokka thought. Zuko wasn’t necessarily one for traditions, but he certainly wouldn’t want to stir the pot that much within the Fire Nation. Things had just started settling down after the war, so to go right back to causing a disturbance didn’t make any sense.

“You don’t think…” Katara started, trailing off and looking guilty. “I just hope Naoki’s not trying to influence him or anything.”

“They seem happy together, but… I don’t know,” Aang admitted with a shrug.

Sokka furrowed his brow at that, thinking back through all the interactions he’d seen with Naoki. He didn’t seem particularly aggressive or controlling, and aside from the fact that he never seemed to leave Zuko’s side, there wasn’t much out of the ordinary with him. The idea that he was somehow pressuring Zuko into something he didn’t want made Sokka’s stomach turn.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Well, I’m just glad Iroh and Toph are getting in tomorrow,” Sokka said with a sigh. Just then, someone bumped gently into his side. He looked over to see a small woman carrying a few towels. She looked at him nervously.

“I am very sorry, Ambassador Sokka,” she said, bowing slightly before hurrying off. He was so distracted by the fact that she knew his name—did he know her?—that it took him a moment to remember that the staff wasn’t supposed to talk to them at all. He glanced down the hall and caught one last glimpse of her disappearing around the corner.

“Hopefully Iroh can talk some sense into him,” Katara said, pulling Sokka back to the conversation. He nodded along with Aang and sighed. If Iroh couldn’t help Zuko, he wasn’t sure anyone could.

* * *

“Your friends are nosy,” Naoki spat. He was stomping around their chambers, hands clasped tightly behind his back the way he always did when he was deep in thought. “I have enough to deal with putting together this last-minute ceremony without them prying into our personal lives. And trying to get you alone?” Naoki laughed bitterly. “Absolutely not.”

Zuko stood in the center of the room, back stiff and gaze unwavering as he stared blankly forward. Naoki appeared and disappeared in his peripheral vision every once in a while as he paced around the room.

They had spent all day meeting with different people about matters regarding the wedding Zuko never wanted. He zoned out for most of it, aware that he had nodded and offered opinions throughout but not actually cognizant of anything he agreed to. Not that it really mattered.

“We need to get this over as soon as possible,” Naoki said with finality. He walked over and stopped directly in front of Zuko, staring at him with contempt. “This has gone on long enough.” The disdainful expression Naoki held was one Zuko found disconcertingly familiar. He’d seen those eyes before, filled with the kind of hatred that said they didn’t really care if he lived or died, because he was nothing more than a pawn in someone else’s game. He thought he had freed himself of those eyes long ago.

A knock at the door caught them both off guard, but Naoki was the only one who looked up.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

“Kayo, sir,” a small voice responded. She was a servant, one of the staff members who would come by in the morning and night to help with dressing or washing up. Half the time, Naoki would just send them away, but while Zuko couldn’t really feel it, he could sense that there was a layer of grime starting to build up on his body, and enough grease in his hair to be noticeable to outsiders if they looked too close.

“Come in,” Naoki ordered. The young woman entered and bowed slightly, holding a bundle of towels in her hands as she waited for instructions. “Wash him first,” he said, gesturing to Zuko. She nodded and headed to the bathroom to draw a bath.

Zuko’s legs brought him into the bathroom, and he could hear Naoki right behind him. This used to be humiliating, long ago, but he and the staff had grown accustomed to the ritual. Zuko stood still and offered no assistance while Kayo undressed him, and Naoki sat on a stool in a corner, watching everything unfold.

The water might’ve been too warm or too cold, but Zuko couldn’t tell the difference. Regardless, his voice always assured the servant that the temperature was just fine.

Kayo got to work on his hair, scrubbing the scalp with care and brushing through the locks to ensure there were no knots. She was mindful, but water still fell forward and slipped down his face. If she thought it was strange that he didn’t react when a drop got in his eye, she didn’t say anything. Kayo just swiped a towel over his face lightly to clean away any suds.

There must have been a lot on Naoki’s mind, because Zuko could feel himself slowly coming back to his body. It wasn’t enough to have full control, but he realized his muscles were starting to relax, sinking down into the warm water. He sighed quietly, almost imperceptibly, reveling in the feeling he hadn’t realized he missed so much.

Kayo seemed to notice, because she smiled a little when she moved to his side to start scrubbing down his arm. She paid special attention to his hands, cleaning under his nails and in-between his fingers carefully.

Zuko turned his head to look at her. It was strange, moving while Naoki still seemed to have half-control over his body. He felt like he was wading through thick mud, like his body was moving in slow-motion. He didn’t really try to regain full control over his body, knowing it wouldn’t end well. He figured he could just enjoy what he had while he had it.

With the gentle return of his body, though, came a few sensations he wasn’t usually accustomed to anymore. A painful gnawing in his stomach had slowly made itself known, and he realized he was incredibly light-headed, nearly to the point of nausea. He swallowed it down and breathed deeply, focusing on the warmth of the bath the ground himself.

When Kayo started to wipe at his chest, Zuko placed a sluggish hand over hers to catch her attention. She looked at him in surprise, and he knew that was because he never moved during this ritual of theirs, especially not to acknowledge her.

“Kayo,” he whispered, shooting just a quick glance to Naoki in the corner of the room to make sure he was still too caught up in his thoughts to notice. “When you’re finished, could you bring dinner to our room? We haven’t had a chance to eat today.” Not entirely true. Naoki ate, snacking on food throughout the day like he usually did. Zuko couldn’t remember the last time he had food himself. Naoki was becoming neglectful in helping to maintain Zuko’s health. He used to get food at least once a day, and though it was a tedious process he figured it was good to get at least _some_ sustenance.

Kayo, again, looked astonished that the Fire Lord was acknowledging her presence and actually _speaking_ to her, but she quickly schooled her expression into something more polite and nodded. “Of course, My Lord,” she replied, her voice just as soft as his.

He let himself relax again, leaning against on the edge of the tub and tilting his head back while Kayo swiped a cloth over his neck and shoulders, cleaning away the dirt and sweat that had accumulated over however many days since his last bath. He thought he might actually just drift off, lulled gently to sleep for once instead of passing out from exhaustion.

“You must be excited for the wedding,” Kayo said softly. Zuko brought his head back down slowly, looking at her. Her expression was friendly, but there was a hint of worry underneath, like she was testing a boundary by making small talk.

Zuko didn’t care about her wanting to chat, though. He realized, suddenly, he might just be able to use her to send a message.

He hummed in reply to her and smiled slightly, which left her looking relieved. His mind whirled with possibilities. He couldn’t very well tell her the whole story right here, in front of Naoki, but maybe he could give her a hint, something she could pass on to his friends. _Naoki is evil_ felt a little too vague, and Zuko was fairly sure his friends had already caught on that something was off. The way they looked at him with concern told him that loud and clear. Perhaps something about the brain, or about bending lightning, or—

“It’s nice that General Iroh was able to make it on time,” Kayo continued absently, lifting one of his arms to scrub near his ribs, but in an instant Zuko was no longer in control of his own body. His back stiffened and his arm slammed down to his side, smacking into Kayo on its way. She yelped out in surprise and flinched back.

“What did you just say?” Naoki asked, standing from his place in the corner. He approached Kayo where she sat on her knees, looming over her. She looked back up at him in fear.

“I—I just said—I think it’s good the Fire Lord’s uncle is able to make it to the wedding,” she stuttered. She kept looking over to Zuko, as if for help, but he was stuck staring straight ahead and could only see her from the corner of his eye.

“Where did you hear this?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Lord Naoki,” Kayo faltered, bowing like she was begging for something. “I overheard the guests speaking, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“What else did you hear?” Naoki demanded, paying no mind to how she was groveling at his feet.

“Nothing! All I overheard was them expressing their excitement for the arrival of General Iroh and Master Beifong tomorrow morning. That’s all, really,” Kayo insisted. Even from what little of her Zuko could see, he could tell she was shaking like a leaf.

 _Master Beifong—Toph?_ Zuko felt his heart stutter with hope.

“Leave us,” Naoki ordered. Kayo stood hurriedly and headed to the door, but she paused, turning back around to stare at Zuko. She was more in his line of sight there, and he could see the worry coloring her face.

“Are you sure? Are you alright, My Lord?” She spoke past Naoki, a brave feat if Zuko did say so himself. He saw the other man stiffen with rage.

Zuko’s head moved unnaturally fast to face her. “Yes,” he said, voice devoid of all emotion. “Leave us.” Kayo hesitated for only a split second before leaving, and he distantly heard the door to their chambers open and close.

Naoki was on him in a second, a hand clutching his chin. He pulled Zuko’s face closer and held him still in a crushing grip. It wasn’t even necessary; Zuko still had no control over his body.

“You brought him here,” Naoki accused. After a moment of silence, Zuko realized with a start that he could still move his mouth.

“When would I have done that?” Zuko spat, channeling as much vitriol into his voice as possible since his expression still remained frustratingly neutral. Naoki released his face with a grunt and made Zuko follow him into the bedroom. Rapidly cooling water dripped from his body onto the floor, trailing into the room.

“At least I’ve learned from your other friends,” Naoki said. “I won’t let you see them this time.”

“Who?” Zuko spat back, suddenly feeling brave. “The human lie detector, or the man who outranks you? Do you think he won’t demand to be at the wedding? Who do you think the guards will listen to?” He could tell this wasn’t something Naoki was prepared to deal with, certainly not on such short notice. He stared at Zuko viciously, but his eyes betrayed his panic.

Zuko wanted to say more, to rub it in his face and tell him he wasn’t going to get away with it anymore, but when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. In fact, he couldn’t even draw in the breath necessary to speak, but just stood rooted to his spot trying and failing to gasp any air into his lungs.

“Do not forget who holds the power here,” Naoki said slowly, coming forward to stand so close that Zuko could feel the man’s breath on his lips. Zuko’s lungs burned, and he wanted to curl up in pain, put his hands to his neck, scratch at the skin on his throat desperately like it would help him breathe somehow. Instead, he stood still, staring unwaveringly at his fiancé with his mouth agape.

“Don’t worry,” Naoki assured, his voice thick with fake sympathy. “I still need you for the ceremony.”

The vice on his lungs was released, and Zuko stood gasping, sucking air in as quickly as he could while fearing it would be taken away again at any moment. After a minute, his breathing calmed down, but the terror still laced his thoughts.

There was a soft knock at the door. With a threatening look, Naoki took back complete control over Zuko’s body. Zuko didn’t think he was getting it back anytime soon.

“What?” Naoki barked.

“Dinner, sir,” Kayo’s voice broke through the door, sounding nervous.

Naoki squinted at Zuko, jaw clenching tightly. “Take it back,” he ordered. “We don’t need it.”

Zuko’s resolve crumbled a little, remembering the gnawing hunger in his gut earlier. His body needed food desperately, and Naoki seemed to know that.

Still, he didn’t think anything could ease the excitement swelling inside his chest when he remembered his uncle and Toph her showing up the next day. It was hard, letting himself feel hope when things seemed so dire, but he couldn’t help the anticipation growing in him, sizzling in his blood like a rush of adrenaline.

He hadn’t felt this close to being free in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asjkjflaasjkdl I feel like this chapter had so much dialogue and plot setup, I am very sorry if parts were boring please forgive me lmao
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, and thank you for all the kind comments! ❤️


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um ok quick shoutout to the wonderful [PurplePudding](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePudding/pseuds/PurplePudding) who drew [this amazing fanart](https://thepurplenebulae.tumblr.com/post/629347877721964544/we-need-to-practice-your-smile-hear-is-a-scene) of the mirror scene from an earlier chapter, it's seriously amazing and I love it so much, please enjoy. Like. Holy shit.

Naoki was taking Zuko to meet the guests as they arrived at the palace that morning, much to Zuko’s surprise. It was a risk, and one that Naoki seemed well aware of but undeterred by. The confidence in his stride as they walked along the halls made Zuko nervous. Naoki was unstoppable, and he knew it.

Neither of them had slept, Naoki keeping him awake all night practicing a new trick and refusing to rest until it was perfected. He knew the stakes and wasn’t willing to chance even the possibility of a misstep.

So Zuko trailed along beside his fiancé, feeling more dead than usual, as if he was a ghost floating just above the floor, Naoki the only thing tethering him to the world. There wasn’t a single part of his body not under control, not completely numb to any sensations. He was a trapped inside of a vessel he couldn’t even recognize. Even his mind seemed weaker today, thoughts trailing away and emotions fading before he could really feel them.

He had barely recognized that they had already arrived to meet his Uncle and Toph, that his voice had greeted them and his arms had embraced each in a hug.

Zuko heard Naoki ask them a question, but his voice was so distant Zuko couldn’t latch onto it long enough to figure out the meaning. A moment later, his Uncle replied, but Zuko’s mind felt too fuzzy to decipher the words. He felt like he was drowning in dark waters and trying desperately to find his way to the surface without being able to sense which direction was up.

Someone asked Zuko a question then, and he was vaguely aware of the movement of his mouth, the sound of words coming up and out of his throat like an uncontrollable reflex. He had no idea what he was saying, but he assumed it was some sort of lie because a firm jolt shot through his body, the control somehow harsher than before.

_Thump, thump, thump._

His heart beat evenly in his chest, carefully controlled so as not to tip Toph off to the deceit in his words. Zuko was positive it wasn’t necessary—he wasn’t even slightly aware of what he was saying. If Naoki made him lie, his heart certainly wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. But Naoki was nothing if not thorough.

He remembered the night before, laying down flat on the bed with Naoki straddled over him, hands pressed against his bare chest. A long time ago, the first time he had allowed Naoki to touch him intimately like that, he had been anxious. It had been born from insecurity and shyness.

He felt anxious again now, but this time it was born from fear and helplessness. This time, he couldn’t say no.

Naoki had been obsessive in his focus, leaning over Zuko’s body and feeling the frantic beating of his heart through his ribs. He worked his way through nerves, searching desperately for the ones he needed, and Zuko’s body tensed and twitched in discomfort while he worked.

Eventually, finally, Naoki had found what he was looking for. A pain encompassed his whole self, and Zuko thought it felt as if Naoki had reached into his chest cavity and seized his heart in a tight fist. For a few short moments, the beating in his chest stopped, and Zuko had wondered briefly if Naoki had finally decided to kill him. Then, slowly, his heart began to beat again. The rhythm was steady and controlled.

Naoki had moved on then to his breathing, slowing it into long, shallow pushes and pulls. His lungs burned with the need for more air, and he grew more and more lightheaded the longer they worked.

Zuko thought it was a strange experience, to panic silently in his own mind while his body remained entirely calm.

Back in the present, they seemed to be wrapping up whatever conversation they were having. Beside him, Naoki bowed respectfully. His Uncle returned with his own polite bow, then trained his attention on Zuko. Zuko watched as his Uncle stepped forward, taking his hands in his own. He was saying something, looking into Zuko’s eyes deeply as he spoke. Zuko wished he could hear him.

Instead, Zuko fought to even focus his eyes enough to see his Uncle’s face clearly. The image swam in front of him, not quite taking shape fully. If he could have, Zuko thought he would feel frustrated, angry, or sad. As it was, his emotions flitted by for only a split second, barely enough to even register. All he knew was that he wanted to see his Uncle’s face and commit it to memory. Some part of him recognized that this might be his last chance.

But Zuko stepped away and turned to walk off with Naoki. As much as he tried, Zuko couldn’t focus long enough to picture his Uncle’s kind face, or his calming voice, or the warmth of his hugs. After a moment he found that he couldn’t think of him at all.

Then again, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

* * *

Iroh knew something was wrong with his nephew the instant he saw him.

He had been warned by Katara, Sokka, and Aang upon arriving, both about Zuko’s odd behavior and the fact that he suddenly had a fiancé. That had tipped him off first that something very strange was going on, because he knew his nephew very well, and he knew that this was not something he would have kept hidden.

But once he saw his nephew walking towards him, Iroh knew for certain something was deeply wrong. Zuko looked emaciated, face thin and cheekbones sharp against his features. His unscarred eye was sunken in with a dark, swollen ring underneath revealing a lack of rest that must span weeks.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Iroh greeted with a smile, trying to quell his concern enough to keep his expression even. He wanted nothing more than to grab him by the arms, holding him tightly, and beg to know what was wrong, but he knew Zuko did not take well to such straightforward treatment. He had grown used to speaking in proverbs and beating around the bush with his nephew.

“Hello, Uncle,” Zuko responded. He smiled, but Iroh was struck with the memory of his nephew at sixteen, working at the Jasmine Dragon and forcing a fake smile as he interacted with customers. He hadn’t seen that smile in years, relieved when it had been replaced with a more natural, genuine smile. Seeing it once more set off yet another alarm in Iroh’s mind.

Setting that aside, Iroh pulled his nephew into a hug, wishing he could relish the feeling of finally holding him close again. Instead, he was distracted by the bones he felt through the Fire Lord’s thick robes, and the weak hands against his back as Zuko returned the embrace.

_My boy is sick_ , Iroh thought as he watched Zuko hug Toph with thin, fragile arms. _That must be it_.

“How was your trip from Ba Sing Se?” Naoki asked. He looked kind, with a gentle face and composure, and his tone was nothing but friendly. Still, Iroh couldn’t help but wonder what it was that kept Zuko from telling him about his fiancé.

“Long,” he answered with a sigh. “But I was in good company.” He turned to see Toph smirk beside him.

“I hate airships,” she added, scratching her chin. “I’m just glad to have my feet on the ground again.”

“And how are you, nephew?” Iroh asked, watching Zuko carefully. His nephew’s gaze was steady, but Iroh wasn’t certain Zuko was actually looking at his face. It was as if he was looking straight through him.

“I’m doing well,” he replied, and there was that customer service smile again that made Iroh hesitate. “We’ve been very busy planning the wedding, so I’ll be glad to have some down time soon.”

“Ah, yes, the wedding,” Iroh mused, squinting just a bit. “How wonderful of you to remember to invite your old Uncle.” His tone was teasing, but he turned up the side of his mouth to make sure Zuko knew he harbored no ill feelings.

Deep down, he truly did feel hurt that he hadn’t been invited and only so happened to be coming to visit while the wedding was planned, but Iroh knew there must be something more to it. His nephew wouldn’t do such a thing on purpose, especially not to hurt him.

“Apologies, General,” Naoki said, his brows furrowed together in worry. “It was a last-minute decision, I assure you, we—”

Iroh held up a hand to stop him, smiling. “Do not worry, I’m just giving my nephew a hard time. Agni knows he did the same to me when he was younger,” he said with a chuckle. “You know, I have so many stories I could tell you about your future husband,” he added with a sly look towards Zuko. He expected his nephew to turn red at the ears and get that familiar grumpy and flustered expression. Instead, Zuko just regarded him calmly with that same smile that, for some reason, sent a chill down his spine.

“Another time, Uncle,” he said. “We have an appointment with the tailor we must get to.”

“We will see you at the ceremony,” Naoki said, bowing deeply.

Iroh returned it, then turned to look at Zuko. He stepped closer, taking his nephew’s hands in his own. They were cold, and without even thinking about it Iroh used his bending to gently warm them in his own. His thumbs swiped over the protruding knuckles affectionately. He had nursed Zuko through sickness before dozens of times, and though it had been many years since he’d last had the responsibility, he felt the pull that urged him to do it again.

“I am here for you, Zuko,” he said softly.

Now that he could see them up close, Iroh realized that there was nothing behind those eyes. It was disconcerting, and he couldn’t help the look of shock he felt flash across his features. His nephew looked at him with such a distant, glazed-over expression that he hardly looked like Zuko at all. His eyes, usually a vibrant gold fueled with fervent passion, were dull and lifeless, like his fire had gone out completely. Iroh felt that if he looked too deeply into them he might find himself lost in some dark void with no way out.

This was something much worse than illness.

His nephew and Naoki walked away, and Iroh let the still-cold fingers slip from his grasp. He watched them go, and after a long moment he felt a hand on his arm.

“You okay?” Toph had turned her body towards him, expression neutral, but he heard the worry in her voice. He patted her hand gently and sighed.

“Let’s find the others, shall we?”

They found Aang and Katara in one of the guest rooms, looking glum. When Iroh and Toph walked into the room, the couple perked up and looked expectantly at them.

“What happened? How was he?” Katara asked.

Iroh wasn’t sure how to answer that. They had warned him things were bad, but it had been so much worse than he expected. He had never seen Zuko look so lifeless before, like he was seconds away from crumpling to the floor and refusing to get back up.

He remembered the pain of losing a son, long ago. He remembered the ache in his chest after having his heart ripped out as someone relayed the news. He remembered the empty hole in his life, the way it felt like his only source of warmth had left him in a cold and lonely world.

Iroh remembered it all too well, and he feared he was about to be faced with the same impossible pain yet again. It was too much heartbreak for a single lifetime.

As if sensing his grief, Katara came up to him and grabbed his arm to guide him to a seat, staying by his side. Aang settled on his other side, and Toph plopped onto a nearby chair, propping her feet up on a table.

“Toph, did you notice anything?” Aang asked. The blind woman crossed her arms and looked thoughtful, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed tightly together.

“Sparky’s never been a good liar,” she mused. Iroh could attest to that. He didn’t need to feel his nephew’s heartbeat to know when he was being dishonest. Zuko had about a hundred different tells, all as clear as day to anyone who was paying half attention.

“I asked him how he was, and he said he was doing well,” Iroh said, picturing a gaunt face and empty words. “Was he lying?”

“No,” Toph replied, and everyone else looked at her in surprise. “He didn’t lie once, but his heartbeat…” Her expression was pinched, sightless eyes squinting in reflection. “His heart was too steady. Even practiced liars have some variation. I’ve never felt anything like it.” She huffed in displeasure. “Either Sparky’s been practicing his lies, or something weird is going on.”

Iroh sighed, feeling like he was getting further and further from understanding what was wrong with his nephew. A chilling sort of dread seeped into his skin and took root, the fear that he was too late, had waited too long to intervene, settling like a heavy stone in his stomach.

Zuko needed him, and he had failed.

* * *

When Sokka saw the servant who bumped into him the previous day scampering down a hallway, he couldn’t help but follow her. He muttered something to his sister about finding them again later and, without further explanation, hurried down the hall to catch the staff member. He caught up to her when she stopped to dust a vase.

“Hey,” he called out as he approached, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, knocking her elbow into the vase and tipping it over. He lunged, catching it before it could shatter. “Careful,” he joked, “that’s probably worth more than… everything I own combined.”

In response, the woman stared at him with wide eyes, gaze darting behind him and down either side of the hall like she was waiting for someone to appear.

Sokka looked at her closely, squinting a bit as he thought. After a moment, he pointed at her. “Kayo, right?” he asked, thinking back to when he used to visit the palace more often. He remembered her being very kind, in a soft-spoken way. She was popular amongst the staff.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“You spoke to me yesterday,” it wasn’t a question, but he waited for her to hesitantly nod. “So you understand that the no-talking rule is stupid, then?”

At that, she gasped quietly and turned to fix the placement of the vase. When she got it how she wanted, she turned and started to walk away.

“ _Wait_ ,” Sokka exclaimed, moving to follow her. “I have a few questions.” Suddenly, she turned on her heel, stopping him in his tracks, and shushed him. He frowned, feeling like a chastised kid.

“Ambassador, we can’t…” Kayo sighed heavily, her brows knitted together.

“Please,” Sokka begged, lowering his voice despite feeling like he wanted to scream. “It’s about the Fire Lord.”

Kayo looked at him intensely, her eyes searching his for something. She looked sad, almost. “You really care about him, don’t you?” Her voice was so quiet now he could barely hear it. He nodded, afraid his own voice would be too loud and shatter whatever they were building in the quiet hallway. Kayo sighed again, glanced around one more time, then gestured with one hand. “Come with me.”

Sokka fell in step behind her as they walked quickly through several hallways. They ducked behind some curtains, and suddenly Sokka found himself traveling through thinner, darker hallways, starkly devoid of Fire Nation tapestries and portraits. He struggled to keep up with Kayo, getting distracted by the labyrinth of halls he’d never seen before.

Seeming to sense his unasked question, Kayo slowed down a bit. “They’re for the servants to use, so we can stay out of sight while we work around the palace.”

“I didn’t even know these existed,” he mused.

“We haven’t had to use them in a while,” she replied, and Sokka wasn’t sure how to reply to that. He felt himself sober up, and settled back in to just following in silence.

Kayo lead them through the hallways confidently, seeming to know exactly which turns to take and when, despite the maze-like quality of the design. Finally, they came to a doorway that Kayo gave three short, successive knocks on before opening.

They walked into a large room with a number of casual seating arrangements and tables, though all of it looked to be old, some in stages of disrepair. About a dozen or so servants were seated around the room and chatting, but the moment they looked up and saw the newcomers all conversation died. A few servants stood at attention.

“It’s okay,” Kayo said, holding up her hands. Sokka stood beside her, looking around the room and trying to ignore the implications of the fear in everyone’s eyes. Kayo put a hand on his arm. “He’s okay, I promise.” She looked up at him, determination in her eyes. “I think he can help.”

Sokka was led over to a group of people sitting on cushions in a circle. Someone dragged another two cushions over for him and Kayo, and they sat. He noticed the others in the room come closer, hovering around the circle, close enough to hear but far enough that Sokka couldn’t reach them. Again, he tried to ignore those implications.

“What is this place?” Sokka asked, glancing around. The room was windowless, lit by several torches hanging against the walls and a number of candles lying around, dripping wax onto dusty tables.

“I think it served as servants’ quarters a long time ago,” Kayo answered. “But now we just use it as a hide out of sorts. The Fire Lord doesn’t know it exists. We’re safe here.”

“Safe,” Sokka repeated, furrowing his brow.

“Not that we’re in danger,” another servant added quickly, his eyes wide behind a pair of large spectacles. Sokka thought he remembered his name was Yusei, though he looked much older now, face worn behind his glasses.

“It’s okay,” Sokka assured. “I’m worried something’s wrong with the Fire Lord. If he did something to you—to any of you,” he added looking around, “I want to know.” Part of him wasn’t actually sure if he _wanted_ to know, but he felt like he _needed_ to know.

Yusei wrung his hands, watching the floor intently. Beside him, a servant placed her hand on his shoulder. Yusei looked over at Kayo, and when she nodded encouragingly, he sighed. “Well, he didn’t _do_ anything. I guess he doesn’t ever do anything to us, but his threats are scary enough.”

“He threatens you?” Sokka asked incredulously.

“Constantly,” Yusei breathed, clasping his hands together in his lap tightly. “I didn’t realize he was serious the first time it happened. I brought him water and tea leaves—he usually prefers to make his tea himself—and he was upset that I didn’t brew it for him. When I questioned him he got angry and told me not to talk back. He called me insolent, and he raised his hand and I thought he would—I didn’t…” Yusei trailed off and shook his head. “I don’t know what I thought he was going to do. But it was terrifying. I ran off.”

“Does he do that to everyone?” Sokka looked around the room and saw that most of them nodded. The few who didn’t, the ones around the outskirts of the circle, looked away like they were pretending not to listen at all. He could still tell the answer was yes.

“We all have similar stories,” Kayo admitted.

“He’s become cruel and merciless,” an older servant—Rin, Sokka’s mind supplied—interrupted, her voice clipped and her expression aggravated. “I thought things were really starting to change around the palace. He was such a sweet boy when he was young, but I’ve never seen so much of his father in him before. It’s like we’re seeing Ozai all over again.”

He failed to keep the shock from his face, his heart dropping into his stomach. He had spent too many restless nights with a frantic and newly-appointed Fire Lord, the stress of ending a century-long war a heavy burden for a 16 year-old child. Zuko had, more than once, fallen to his knees and tore at his hair, confessing a deep-seated fear that someday, despite everything, he would turn out just like his father. Sokka remembered sinking down beside him and pulling him into his arms, the assurance that it would never happen falling from his lips like the easiest, most certain thing in the world.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka whispered, not quite sure how to ease that kind of pain and betrayal. He took a deep breath to clear his mind. “When did this start?”

A number of people around him grumbled, and he quirked an eyebrow.

“Lord Naoki,” Rin supplied, pursing her lips. “It started a few months ago when they came back from vacation and announced they were engaged. He’s clearly been a horrible influence on the Fire Lord.”

“I don’t know…” Kayo muttered.

“Here we go,” Rin said, rolling her eyes. Sokka looked between the two questioningly. “Some of the youth have come up with conspiracy theories because they don’t want to admit their beloved leader turned on them.”

“Conspiracy theories?” Sokka asked, turning to Kayo. She looked annoyed.

“They’re not conspiracy theories,” she argued. Turning to Sokka, she seemed to be searching for the right words. “We’re not entirely sure, but something just seems… _off_ about the Fire Lord. He’s really spacey and quiet, he never smiles anymore, and he barely eats anything. I mean, you’ve seen him,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “He looks like he’s wasting away.”

“He doesn’t practice his bending or his swords anymore, either,” Yusei offered. Beside him, Rin gave him a look that said _not you, too_. He just shrugged.

“Some of us think he might be sick,” Kayo explained, her expression turning sad. “ _Really_ sick.”

“Tell him about yesterday,” another young servant piped up from the side. Sokka wasn’t sure he’d ever seen them before.

“What happened yesterday?” Sokka asked. In turn, Kayo’s eyebrows lowered and she bit her lip.

“It was just really weird,” she started, shaking her head. “I was washing him, and he usually just sits there and doesn’t do or say anything, but this time he relaxed a little. He even spoke to me, but he was being really quiet. All he did was ask for food, but he kept looking over at Lord Naoki like he would stop him. Honestly,” Kayo paused, frowning, “he looked scared.”

“Of Naoki?” Sokka asked, then paused, holding up a hand. “Wait, was Naoki in there _while_ you were washing Zuko?”

“Yes,” she said, though she looked as if she understood his confusion. “They’re inseparable.”

“Yeah, so I’ve noticed,” Sokka mumbled. He sighed, but gestured for her to continue her story.

“Well, I started talking about the wedding, just making small talk, and then the strangest thing happened. He was so relaxed one second, and then the next it was like…” She paused, her expression distorting in confusion. “I don’t even know. It was like something just possessed him suddenly. He sat up straight so fast he hit me, but I don’t even think he noticed. Lord Naoki started yelling at me, and the Fire Lord just sat there and didn’t do anything. He didn’t react at all. It was like he couldn’t even move.”

“Something possessed him?” Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It was like…” Kayo thought for a moment, then let her shoulders slump and her head fall to one side limply like she was relaxing. A moment later, her entire body shot upright like a puppet with all its strings pulled taut. Her head snapped over so that she was looking at him with cold, dead eyes. It was unnatural and creepy and, Sokka thought, familiar.

He remembered years ago, when he was much younger, when he, his sister, Aang, and Toph were hiding in the Fire Nation and had come across an old woman that turned out to be a waterbender. He remembered Katara fighting her and, when he tried to intervene, the sudden feeling of losing control of his own limbs. Bloodbending, she had called it. He hadn’t been able to see himself, but he had seen Aang. He had seen the way his body moved rigidly, quickly, clearly not under his own control. It had been terrifying.

And it was as if he was seeing it again, through Kayo, as she acted out the scene.

“Is Naoki a bender?” Sokka asked, seriously doubting that he would just so happen to be a waterbender. Still, stranger things had happened.

“He’s a firebender, yes,” Kayo replied, relaxing the stiffness in her body. Inwardly, Sokka was grateful. Seeing her rigid and still like that made his skin crawl.

“Have you ever actually seen him firebend?” Sokka challenged, squinting. Kayo thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“I have,” Yusei admitted, rubbing his arm nervously. “His threats usually involve fire.” He held out a hand with the palm facing upward and wiggled his fingers like there was an invisible flame to stoke.

Sokka fought the urge to sigh, letting his shoulders droop in disappointment. So much for the bloodbending theory. But something in his gut churned uncomfortably, and he felt like he was on the right track. The thought made him sick.

He stood from his spot in the circle, clenching his fists. “Thank you,” he said, appreciation lacing his voice and making it heavy. The people in the room looked at him, and he was honored that, instead of a sea of fearful faces, he saw hope. “I’ll try my best to figure this out, I promise.” Kayo stood beside him and offered to show him back out, and he followed her gratefully. When they got back to the familiar, expansive hallways of the palace, he asked for directions to the library.

He had research to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, writing this story: y'all better drink your Respect Sokka Juice or else.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm back a million years late with an update! Quit my job and moved across country so.... been busy lol
> 
> But hopefully this chapter is filled with enough action to make up for it?

Sokka ran as quickly as his legs would take him down the hallway, lungs burning from the effort and a thick book clutched to his chest. When he turned a corner and realized he still had quite a long way to go, he silently cursed and grabbed onto his stomach. He really needed to get back into sparring. Ambassadorial duties were making him soft.

Earlier, when Sokka had found the palace library, he had strolled in, slammed his hands on the front desk, and, with the upmost confidence, demanded, “Give me everything you have on firebending, _stat_.”

The middle-aged string bean of a man behind the desk had been less than helpful, replying, “Sir, this is the Fire Nation Imperial Library. We have literally everything on firebending.”

Which, okay, yeah, that would make sense. Back home, the library had about a dozen books on the Fire Nation total, and maybe two of those included anything on actual firebending. He supposed it made a little more sense for the Fire Nation to be well-stocked in that regard.

So Sokka had spent the next two hours going back and forth with the guy, trying to find a connection between bloodbending and firebending, asking questions of increasing absurdity to an increasingly confused and irritated librarian.

“Is there some sort of fire inside the body? Inside the bloodstream? How could a firebender bend blood?”

“They could… boil it, I suppose?” The librarian grimaced and shrugged.

“Horrifying concept,” Sokka admitted, “but not quite what I’m looking for.”

Sokka kept asking what in the body could be firebent, if heat could be controlled or moved somehow to manipulate a body, if firebenders were secretly somehow _made out of fire_. The librarian adamantly denied that last one, citing an anatomy book and sliding the dusty hardcover to him from across the desk. He insisted firebenders had the same makeup as everyone else, but reluctantly admitted he wasn’t a firebender himself, so Sokka hadn’t been entirely convinced.

Frustrated, Sokka racked his brain while he flipped through the anatomy text at a separate desk, finding the section on the circulatory system. There was _nothing_. He couldn’t find anything that made any sense, and the poor librarian seemed fresh out of patience for all of his questions.

If he could just make his stupid brain _work_ , Sokka thought dejectedly. He held his head tightly, willing himself to just think, think, _think_ —

He gasped and sat up, still gripping the sides of his head. The librarian glanced over at him and looked concerned, probably afraid that Sokka had another question. Instead, Sokka turned to the index of the book, hoping the vague inkling of a memory from his studies held true.

Sure enough, he was right.

So Sokka slammed the book shut, held it close, and sprinted out of the library, ignoring the yells from the librarian telling him he needed to check the book out first. He was pretty sure Zuko would pardon him for this.

Sokka located Aang and Katara’s guest room and burst in. His sister and Aang yelped in surprise, but Toph seemed unaffected, probably having heard his heavy footsteps and loud panting from a mile away.

“Sokka! What—”

“Where’s Zuko?” Sokka interrupted his sister, trying and failing to catch his breath.

“Iroh went to see him and the creep,” Toph offered. She was still reclined back on a chair, but Sokka could tell she was growing concerned. Something in the way her shoulders tensed that he’d learned to look for over the years.

“ _Where_?” Sokka asked more insistently.

“Sokka, what’s going on?” Aang stood up and stepped towards him, holding out a placating hand. Ever the Avatar, always trying to keep the peace.

“The brain—neurons—” Sokka spat out in-between wheezes. He shoved the book into Aang’s arms, having already opened it to the right chapter. “ _Lightning_ ,” he added helpfully. “Now _where_?”

“Calm down, Snoozles,” Toph said, getting up from her seat. With her usual nonchalance, she grabbed Sokka’s arm and tugged him along. “I’ll bring you to them.”

None of them were moving quickly enough for his taste, but Sokka took the time to catch his breath and re-center himself. Toph pulled him along down the halls while Katara and Aang trailed just behind, heads buried in the book.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Katara asked, flipping a page. Sokka glanced back at her, and they locked eyes. He momentarily debated with himself, then sighed.

“Do you remember Hama?”

Katara frowned, her eyebrows drawing up in the way that Sokka hated seeing. Next to her, Aang’s eyes widened and he looked back down at the book.

“Naoki…” Aang whispered, sounding horrified.

Beside him, Sokka felt Toph’s grip tighten and she stopped in her tracks. When he tried to ask her what she was doing she shushed him, her bare foot adjusting slightly on the ground.

“Something’s wrong,” she muttered, and suddenly the four of them were sprinting.

* * *

Iroh was determined to help his nephew. He had turned a blind eye too many times in his life to allow anything to go by without intervention. He had ignored finger-shaped bruises when Zuko was young, had ignored the way Ozai grabbed his own children in a tight grip while he disciplined them in front of guests. He had turned away as his brother burned Zuko’s face, ignored the screams ripped from the child’s throat which suddenly cut off as he lost consciousness. He had ignored Zuko’s flinches each time Iroh reached towards him during exile. He ignored everything that said his nephew was hurting and had suffered at the hands of someone he had trusted.

He refused to ignore this now.

With a tray of teacups, a kettle, and tea leaves in his hands, as well as determination in his step, Iroh walked down an expansive hallway and tried not to let his mind wander so much that he would lose his composure. He had assured the others he could handle this alone, though they promised to be ready to back him up if he needed it. 

Two guards were posted outside of a dressing room, but they allowed him entry without much hassle. Inside, curtains were drawn and the walls were mounted with lit torches, bathing the room in a warm glow that felt falsely comforting. His nephew and the fiancé stood in varying states of dress while a tailor, an older woman Iroh knew from around the palace, kneeled before Naoki, taking measurements.

Zuko was almost in full marriage regalia, thick black robes trimmed and adorned with gold thread meant to match his polished hairpiece. A wide, burgundy sash was tied loosely around his waist, as if whoever dressed him was afraid to tie it too tight and reveal how slim he was. The robes dwarfed him anyway, the sleeves falling too far down his hands and the high collar swallowing his neck. The fabric bunched down at the floor, too long and loose for his thin frame. He looked like a boy wearing his father’s clothes—though Iroh supposed that was true, thinking back to who last wore these ceremonial robes.

In another life, Iroh knew he would be tickled pink at the image before him. His nephew was getting married, something he had dreamed of living to see. This should be a momentous and happy occasion.

But now, as Iroh entered the room, all he could think of was how pale Zuko’s skin looked contrasted with the dark black of his robes, and how they looked so heavy on his body that Iroh feared his nephew might collapse under the weight.

“We were not to be disturbed,” Naoki spoke, glancing past Iroh to the guards by the open doors. “I thought I made myself clear.”

Iroh stepped further into the room and plastered on an overly friendly smile. “You wouldn’t deny an old man a cup of tea with his only nephew before his wedding, would you? Besides,” he continued, adding a hint of authority to his voice, “I am still a prince. I don’t believe I can be kicked out of a room in my own home.” This was mostly true, but the only person who held the power to kick him out was in the room with him. He just hoped Zuko wouldn’t actually do it.

Naoki looked as if he was trying very hard not to look irritated. Zuko looked like a corpse, and hadn’t moved once since Iroh entered. With a final nod to the guards, who then closed the doors, Iroh stepped into the room and found a short table to kneel beside as he set down his tray.

“I always hoped to be able to see you in these robes someday,” Iroh mused, setting out three ceramic cups before him on the table. He glanced up to see Zuko had turned to look at him, though his eyes were trained above Iroh’s head. “It warms my heart to be here for this.”

“I’m glad you could make it,” Zuko replied. He smiled lifelessly.

Iroh paused, a realization forming in his mind. The smile, beyond resembling Zuko’s Jasmine Dragon service smile, reminded Iroh of something else. The blank eyes and unresponsive exterior brought him back to another part of Ba Sing Se, where he heard rumors of the Dai Li. Where he caught glimpses of civilians acting differently from when he last saw them, like the life had been sucked from them and replaced with propaganda and false happiness.

He dragged his eyes away from his nephew and swallowed down a lump in his throat. After taking a steadying breath, Iroh grasped at one of his hands and sighed.

“My nephew,” he said cheerfully, “my joints have been acting up lately. While your fiancé has his measurements taken, why don’t you help me make us some tea.” He pushed the kettle halfway across the table as an invitation.

In response, Zuko remained very still. Naoki spoke instead. “I’m almost finished here, actually. He needs measurements next.” He shot Iroh a polite smile. The tailor did seem to be finishing up on his robes. It was an unusual circumstance to have two grooms, so it appeared that his robes were brand new and tailored almost perfectly to his form already.

“Very well,” Iroh said calmly, smiling back. He pulled the kettle closer and opened a small jar of tea leaves. Chuckling slightly, he turned his attention back to his nephew. “Sometimes I think I would lose my own head if it were not attached to my body. This old mind seems to be fading a bit. Nephew, how many teaspoons do I use for darjeeling?”

“Why don’t we just have someone else make the tea?” Zuko responded.

“You know I prefer to make my own,” Iroh said, almost challengingly. “I just need a reminder. You should remember from your time at the Jasmine Dragon.”

Zuko was quiet for a moment, and the air in the room grew thin. “I don’t remember,” he finally said, shrugging slightly, the movement jerky and uncoordinated.

“Nevermind,” Iroh said calmly, though his heart was loud in his ears. He didn’t feel like he needed more proof, but he had to make sure. “I’ll take my best guess. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it no matter what since it’s your favorite.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Zuko said, smiling again. “Thank you.”

Iroh took another deep breath, taking his time closing the jar of untouched tea leaves and pushing it aside. He stood from his place and looked at the tailor as she grabbed her items to start working on Zuko’s robes.

“Huian,” he said, calling her attention. “Would you mind stepping out and giving us just a moment?” She looked like she wanted to protest, but Iroh steadied a look in her direction that didn’t leave much room to argue. Silently, she set aside her tools and left the room.

“We really need to finish this fitting as soon as possible,” Naoki noted exasperatedly, watching the tailor leave.

Iroh leveled the man with a harsh stare, barely managing to hold in his fury. He was growing tired of pretending this entire situation was normal.

“My nephew would not fail to tell me about a serious relationship, and he certainly would not forget to invite me to his own wedding,” he said quietly, careful to keep his voice steady. Naoki smiled apologetically, but Iroh could see now how it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Like I explained before, it was a last-minute arrangement, so—”

“My nephew has never, at least in recent years, refused to help me make a pot of tea,” Iroh interrupted, stepping towards Naoki. He felt pride fill his chest when he saw a flash of fear in the other man’s eyes.

“I’m not sure what—”

“I taught him everything I know about tea, and he worked in a tea shop for months. He has yet to forget _anything_ about it. My nephew would absolutely know something as simple as how to measure tea leaves.” Iroh squinted and grit his teeth. “And Zuko’s favorite tea is jasmine.”

Naoki stared at him, a host of emotions flitting over his features. He looked frightened and angry and resolute, all within the span of seconds. Zuko, in the corner of Iroh’s eye, remained still.

“What did you do to him?” Iroh demanded, anger building inside of him like a furnace. Equal resentment grew steadily in Naoki’s expression until the two looked at each other with enough fury to set the entire room alight. When Naoki refused to answer, Iroh took another step forward. “What did you _do_ —”

Naoki lifted both hands to him, and Iroh felt as if his body had turned to stone. He froze, and his voice cut off and refused to continue, no matter how hard he tried to finish his sentence. A sharp feeling buzzed throughout his body, prickling underneath his skin and leaving a deep, itchy sensation in his muscles. All he could do was watch Naoki, a horrifying sense of fascination settling right beside the dread building in his stomach.

“You’ve been making this process incredibly difficult,” Naoki said slowly. He took a few steps back, still holding up his hands like he was trying to ward off a feral animal. “I was hoping we could get through this without so much drama.”

Iroh willed his mouth to move, for words to come out, but nothing happened. He wanted to ask what Naoki was doing, how he was doing it, _why_ he was doing it. A look of intense concentration fell over Naoki, and Iroh felt his body twitch in time with Naoki’s fingers.

The realization that this, whatever it was, was happening to Zuko, _had_ been happening to him for a long time now, hit Iroh like a brick wall. Knowing his nephew was in there, unable to do anything but watch everything unfold around him, made Iroh’s heart ache. He wondered just how long Zuko had been trapped. He wondered what that kind of treatment would do to a man.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to find out.

“How unfortunate,” Naoki said, a sadistically courteous smile falling over his face, “that the Dragon of the West should suffer a heart attack and perish on the eve of his nephew’s wedding.”

Before Iroh could even try to ask him what he meant, Naoki twitched his fingers and a jolt of pain shot through his body. His chest tightened, like a fist was clenching his heart and refusing to let go. If he had been able to, Iroh would have screamed.

Naoki remained calm as his fingers moved, and the pain traveled throughout Iroh’s body with the movements. A pressure grew, pulsing through his arms, down his back, and even crawling up to his jaw. Naoki looked deeply focused, a drop of sweat falling down his temple. 

Even overwhelmed by the pain, Iroh managed to glance sideways at his nephew in time to see Zuko blink slowly and turn his head. Briefly, they made eye contact. Iroh wished he could embrace him, or at least have enough control to apologize, to tell Zuko he loved him. A wave of guilt crashed over him, so intense it almost washed out the pain.

Zuko was watching him die. He was watching his uncle die, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

Black spots dotted his vision, and Iroh fought against them as much as he could. He wished there was something he could do to break the control, to save his nephew from having to witness it. He wished, at the very least, Naoki would close Zuko’s eyes.

Distantly, Iroh was aware of a commotion outside the room. It sounded like yelling, muffled through the door as well as through Iroh’s quickly fading senses. A loud bang broke through, and Iroh saw Naoki’s arms drop to his sides.

Some semblance of control came back to Iroh’s body, but his knees instantly buckled and he fell to the floor. The pain didn’t stop.

Gasping for breath and grasping to consciousness, Iroh lifted his head and saw something fly towards Naoki. The man dodged it, and barely had enough time to exclaim before the item turned around mid-air and smacked him in the back of his head.

Naoki dropped like a ragdoll, followed quickly by Zuko. Iroh allowed his head to fall to the floor as the pain engulfed him, and he felt himself slip away.

* * *

Zuko hadn’t realized how far gone he was until he started coming back. Fighting against Naoki’s control had become so hard, so tiring, he had given up without even realizing it.

Then suddenly it was slipping. He was still being restrained, but Zuko blinked into awareness, struck by the little control he had been granted. The room felt dim and cold and unfamiliar, and he looked around briefly, trying to place it but having a hard time concentrating.

Across from him, someone stood very still, body tense and trembling. They looked like they were in pain. Zuko blinked, trying to recognize the person. They looked familiar, or at least _felt_ familiar, but anytime he strained himself to consider the matter further Zuko felt a fresh wave of exhaustion fall over him.

He was so tired.

Preferring how things had been before, when he was lost in his own mind and free of fatigue, Zuko let his thoughts dissipate and willed himself to disappear again. The room and the person across from him faded from existence.

And then suddenly he found himself on the floor.

Zuko didn’t feel like he was floating away anymore. In fact, he felt very, very heavy and grounded. His cheek was pressed firmly to the tile, and it felt cold and hard and painful against his skin. His entire body ached, and a deafening noise pounded in his ears, so insistent and loud that he nearly shouted for it to stop before he realized it was his own heartbeat.

He looked around, the room spinning in his vision. He blinked through it, trying to ignore the pulsing behind his eyes. Legs and feet swirled around him, then suddenly he was being lifted, propped up in someone’s arms. Warm hands embraced his cheeks, and a familiar face came into view.

“S _-okk_ …” Zuko croaked, his throat constricting and rebelling against the movement. Sokka was saying something to him, but the words meant absolutely nothing. Zuko groaned slightly and looked away. Over Sokka’s shoulder, Zuko could see a body slumped on the ground.

_Uncle_.

The last few minutes of awareness came back to him, hazy images starting to make more sense. His Uncle standing across from him, face contorted in pain and body tense like he was struggling against something. Or someone.

Anxiety shot through Zuko and he looked around frantically for Naoki. Sokka was trying to hold him still but he pressed against his chest weakly until he was released, and then the man came into vision.

Naoki was collapsed in a heap on the floor, his body facing up and his head in Aang’s hands. Aang was cradling the back of his head carefully, and Zuko could see blood seeping onto the floor. An abandoned boomerang lay nearby, speckled red at one end.

Pushing past the deep ache in his muscles that protested with every movement, Zuko dragged himself across the floor towards them. His head swam and nausea bubbled in his stomach, but he swallowed it down and pressed on.

Everyone around him was yelling, and he picked up a few words here and there. _He’s fine, he’s alive, don’t worry_. But they didn’t get it. Zuko _knew_ Naoki was alive. He could feel it deep in his bones, the threat that this could all go away again, the fear that Naoki could, at any second, wake back up and destroy everything.

Zuko shoved Aang away from Naoki, knowing there wasn’t enough time to tell him _why_ , to tell him he needed to back away and keep himself safe. All of his friends were in danger. Zuko was in danger.

He stared down at the still body underneath him. Naoki looked normal like this, calm and quiet and harmless, but he knew better. He had seen the evil in his eyes, felt the things he was capable of doing. Anger swelled inside of him, having been pressed so far down he almost forgot what it felt like. He almost forgot the way it burned, boiling him from the inside out, threatening to eat him alive then burn the rest of the world down in his wake.

He glanced at the boomerang, wondering if the sharp edge would be enough to finish it if he were to press it through Naoki’s throat. He knew it would, but it didn’t feel right. It’s not what he wanted.

Zuko reached down and cupped Naoki’s face in his hands, ignoring the way they shook. He didn’t know what he was doing; he hadn’t trained under masters for years or practiced on anyone before. But that didn’t really matter. Precision wasn’t the point.

Anger hadn’t fueled his bending in years, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care. He didn’t fucking _care_.

It was hard to focus, and it took everything he had, but Zuko concentrated enough to feel something. Small sparks, barely there, appearing and disappearing in flashes so quick he almost missed them. He remembered every time in his life he had needed to redirect lightning, remembered the feeling of people he had grown to love and trust betraying him.

Why did everyone betray him?

Rage boiled up, seething between his teeth and festering at the tips of his fingers. The body underneath him tensed, and he felt the sparks under his hands flash brighter, currents of energy growing and burning out, damaging everything they touched. Naoki’s eyes flew open.

Hands grabbed at Zuko wildly, pulling at his robes, rubbing down his back, clutching at his hands and trying to pull them away. There were words, too, but Zuko couldn’t hear them over the sound of someone screaming themselves hoarse. With a start, he felt pain rip through his throat and realized he was the one screaming.

Tears obscured his view, but Zuko blinked them away hurriedly and gripped Naoki’s face tighter, willing more and more nerves to surge. An arm wrapped around his chest and pulled hard, and Zuko nearly lost his grip on Naoki’s face. He held on long enough to watch his eyes grow wide, pupils dilated. Then suddenly they relaxed as something inside of them faded away.

Something in Zuko faded with it, and his body slumped in relief as they pulled him away from Naoki’s still body. He was dragged to the other end of the room, and the image of his friends filled his view as they touched his face and spoke calming words he still couldn’t quite understand.

Too exhausted to decipher them, he let his eyes slip shut and his mind fade back into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👀


End file.
